I grew up about 8 miles north of Cincinnati. That might not seem like much now, but 20 years ago the difference was palpable. You could stand on the hillside by the old church and look down into the orange and green dots that made up Cincinnati proper -- but where we were was almost pitch black. It's all built up now. Half the woods are gone, new houses in their place. But you can still find that kind of atmosphere, you just have to drive a little farther. There are parts of Kentucky and Ohio that look exactly as presented in Kentucky Route Zero (minus the giant eagles of course.) And that's what makes it so amazing -- sure, it's a very stylized art style, but it's captured perfectly the atmosphere and overall weirdness of this part of America, something that gets lost when you get too close to the ashtrays we call cities.

I can't really talk about Kentucky Route Zero in terms of gameplay. I can only talk about growing up in the 80s and 90s when everything wasn't so built up. About how when I was really little I lived up in Michigan and we used to drive down here to visit my grandparents and it was a completely different world, where the street had no lights and people turned off their porchlights before going to bed at 9pm, and darkness seemed to swallow up everything, even sound. About how summers in rural southern Ohio and Kentucky were otherworldly. About going down to Coney Island Amusement Park in Cincinnati's California neighborhood, down by the river, passing all the houses where nobody lived on the first floor, and wandering around Moonlite Gardens before taking a ride on the Ferris Wheel. About staying up 'til two in the morning playing strange, obscure text adventure games in the late 1990s with bizarre imagery and British humor. About getting lost in the woods one night at the end of summer and having to use the moonlight to find my way back into the backyard. About trips to the lake while fumigating the house, and stormclouds gathering as we drove home. About looking out on the backyard through the window in the upstairs hall closet. About being seven and bewildered. About being twelve and lonely. About being fifteen and lost.

This game is beautiful.